The Girl With No Past (24 page)

TWENTY-ONE

Ben called the next day and tried his best to convince me to go to the police. He offered to come with me, saying he would stay with me for as long as I needed him. When I protested, telling him he had his own life to get on with, he assured me that Pippa wouldn’t mind; he had told her I was being harassed and she had agreed he should help me in any way. ‘She wants to meet you,’ he said, and I shuddered at the thought. Would she be jealous of the attention Ben was giving me? I couldn’t blame her if this were the case; in her shoes I’m sure I would feel the same.

I put him off both these things, assuring him I would wait to see if anything else happened, then consider going to the police. He seemed only slightly appeased by this, but let it go.

‘Well, if you won’t go, then give me the email address this person is using. I know some tech guys and they may just be able to trace it. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.’

I repeated the address, memorised by now, and heard him scribbling it down. ‘Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.’

I thought about the last message I’d received:

An eye for an eye, a life for a life.

I had held back from mentioning this one to Ben. He would know immediately this was a direct threat, and he would push me until he got more answers. Even though he didn’t know me well, anyone would be able to see I was not being targeted randomly. That I must have done something to invite this harassment.

I hadn’t heard from Julian since we had spent the night together. That had been Monday and it was now Wednesday so it didn’t look good. I may have been new to this, but it was common sense that if someone didn’t call you after you’d slept with them then they probably weren’t interested.

Although I knew this, I didn’t want to believe it. I kept replaying that night in my head, remembering how loving he had been afterwards. Completely different to Adam. There had to be an explanation. He had lost my number and hadn’t had a chance to come to the library or my flat. It wasn’t as if I lived nearby.

Ignoring the doubts, I called him, only to find his phone was switched off. There was only one thing I could do then, and even though it would take all my strength, I needed to see him. If it was over, if it had only ever been about one night, then he could tell me to my face.

Somehow I made it to Bethnal Green. I fought against the fear that was crushing me and tried to ignore the feeling I was being watched. Julian had mentioned that he lived in a flat on Broadway Market, and although I found the road easily enough, I couldn’t remember which number it was. His flat number was 6b but I had no idea of the building number. After a quick scan of the street, I narrowed it down to two possibilities; only two of the buildings had flats numbered six.

Outside the first building, I pressed the doorbell and waited, my heart thumping in my chest. I hadn’t felt like this since Adam and I didn’t like feeling so out of control. I could have walked away, before anyone answered, and put it down to experience. That’s what I should have done. But I knew I had to see this through. It was easier to do this when I thought of Julian turning up at the library twice. I was only doing the same for him.

I held my breath as the door opened and a man’s face appeared. For a second I thought it was him, but it was only a cruel trick my mind was playing. This wasn’t Julian. The man staring at me was taller, older, his expression stern and unfriendly. It must be the wrong flat.

‘Yes?’ he said.

‘Sorry…sorry to disturb you. I was looking for a friend of mine and thought this was his address. Julian Greene?’

He continued staring but didn’t say anything. Instead, he started to close the door but then changed his mind and swung it back open again. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

This man was beginning to worry me. He hadn’t said he knew Julian so why was he suddenly asking who I was? I repeated my story, that I was a friend of Julian’s and needed to find him.

He listened, then screwed up his face. ‘You’re Leah, aren’t you?’

Something wasn’t right. How did he know my name? What was going on?

‘I’m…I…’

‘You are, aren’t you? You’re that sick psycho bitch Julian told me about. Don’t fucking come back here and stay the hell away from my brother.’

And then the door slammed, so close to my face that I could feel a draught on my skin.

Back at home, safely cocooned in my flat once more, I tried to make sense of what had happened. The man who had answered the door was Julian’s brother and he had told me to stay away from him. It didn’t make sense. I hadn’t done anything to him, and the last time I’d seen him things had been fine between us. Better than fine. But perhaps I’d been wrong to assume that. Maybe I had misjudged the situation so badly, like I’d done with Adam, and couldn’t tell that Julian hadn’t been interested. Somehow I had come across as a stalker and scared him off.

But the more I thought about this, the more convinced I became that it wasn’t that. Julian had clung to me that night as we’d slept, there was no mistaking that. He had been so different to Adam afterwards, there was no way I could have misread things.

In the kitchen, I boiled the kettle to make some tea. Although I didn’t feel like a drink I hoped it would comfort me. Just the routine of making it was familiar and secure, but it did nothing to alleviate the emptiness inside me. It was far worse to have had that moment with Julian, only for it to be snatched away. I was fine before. Now I didn’t know what I was.

I took my mug to the living room and sank onto the sofa. It was almost as if I was in a trance until my phone vibrated on the coffee table, snapping me alert. Picking it up, I noticed I had a voicemail message. I hadn’t heard the phone ring but I’d had the kettle on so wouldn’t have heard it. It had to be Julian, calling to tell me his brother had played a cruel trick on me and that he was sorry.

Ready to give him hell for messing me around, I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for the message to kick in. I was so desperate to hear his voice that it took me a moment to realise it wasn’t him. The voice I was hearing was deep and unfamiliar, delivering another message that was meant to pierce me in the gut:

How does it feel to have everything taken away from you? Tick tock, tick tock.

I’d held it together until that moment but now my defences came crashing down and I collapsed to the floor. This was it. I could no longer ignore that I was being threatened. That my life was in jeopardy. Karma was calling and there was no way to escape.

It took me too long to compose myself, and minutes flicked past in a blur. Then, slowly I began to realise I didn’t have to let this defeat me. I would fight back, deal with it head on, take my life back.

And there was only one person who could help me.

‘Are you okay? I’ve been so worried, Leah. Why wouldn’t you tell me on the phone what’s going on?’

I sighed, hoping I hadn’t made a mistake. This was not going to be easy. ‘Can I at least come in first?’

Mum stood aside to let me past, closing the door behind us. ‘Well, I can see you’re in one piece at least. Now, would you like tea or coffee?’

I told her I’d just have a glass of water and she seemed disappointed. Perhaps she didn’t feel she was being hospitable enough unless she could make me a hot drink.

In the kitchen, she watched me sip my water, her eyebrows arched as she waited for me to speak. There was no way I could tell her everything. She would only drag me to the police station and insist I stayed at the house with her until it had all been sorted out. That was the trouble with Mum: even after everything I had put her through, she still believed things worked out in the end, tidied themselves away, never to be a bother again. But I had to say
something
; I needed her help.

‘Mum, I know you don’t like talking about it but I need to ask you something. About that night.’

Her skin paled and she turned away from me. ‘Now why would you want to drag all that up again?’

‘I just need to ask you one thing. That’s all, I promise.’

Mum frowned and pulled out a kitchen chair. She made no move to sit on it, but gripped the top of it as if it was a Zimmer frame. Clearly she felt uncomfortable and I hated doing this to her, but I had no choice.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice thick with apprehension.

I took a deep breath. It was never easy discussing anything to do with that night. ‘Is there anyone you can think of who might know about me? Apart from her family? Anyone at all?’

She digested what I was saying before answering, her eyes glazing as she relived her side of it. ‘Well, no. Your name was kept confidential. How would anyone know? And why are you asking this?’ She stared at me, seeming to search my face for something. Probably the truth.

‘It’s just…I just want to be sure. I’ve been having bad dreams about it, that’s all.’ It was a feeble lie; I should have been better prepared for her questions.

‘Well, that’s probably because of the anniversary, isn’t it? It’s bound to…When was the last time you saw Dr Redfield? You’ve cancelled so many appointments and I can’t understand why. She’s a lovely woman. And you…’ She didn’t bother finishing her sentence, and I wondered what the ending would have been. I’m a mess? I clearly need help? I’m always alone and it’s not normal?

‘I went recently. And I’m fine. I just wondered if there was someone I might have overlooked who was…affected. Or someone you might have told without—’

Mum slammed her mug down on the table. ‘Leah, really! What do you take me for? Why would you think I’d go blabbing to people when I’ve spent all these years pretending nothing happened?’

She stood up and took her mug to the sink, leaving me to feel guilty for even thinking she might have talked about it. I should have known; she didn’t even want to mention it to me so why would she discuss it with anyone else? But still I’d needed to be sure.

She turned on the tap too fully, releasing water with a violent spatter, making a point of demonstrating how upset she was. I didn’t need that, on top of everything else, so got up to join her, taking my glass with me. She didn’t look up but took my glass and began washing up.

‘I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Look, Leah, I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t believe this is all just about some stupid dream. But I won’t push you to tell me. You’ll do that if you ever decide I deserve to be part of your life.’ Still not looking at me, she walked to the fridge and pulled out a bag of carrots, bringing them back to the sink to peel. ‘Anyway, did it occur to you that she could have told people? What was to stop her? And there’s nothing you can do about that.’

I had thought about this, of course I had. But I knew she wouldn’t have told anyone. I had no rational reason for believing this, but something in my gut was telling me she had buried it as soon as it had happened. But I needed to keep an open mind and explore all the alternatives.

It was time to change the subject. I had got as much as I could out of Mum and didn’t want to cause her any more stress. ‘Can I stay the night?’ Until that moment I’d had no idea how long I was planning to be in Watford, but I needed to be there, close by. Plus, it felt safer than being alone at home.